Smooth Dog
by Evil Cosmic Triplets
Summary: Steve's a smooth dog with a penchant for bringing home strays, and Grace only encourages him. Danny's just trying to provide a good, loving home for the three (plus or minus a million) of them. (see notes) Added more...
1. Pineapples Aside

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters of this work of fiction, and no profit, monetary or otherwise, is being made through the writing of this.

 **A/N:** This is AU. Steve is a dog, Danny's a widower, moved to the island on a recommendation from Grace's psychologist. I started writing this forever ago (a year or maybe more), and, as I am participating in NaNoWriMo's summer camp this July, I thought I'd take a look at some of these stories that I'd started, and try to finish them. There are other things that I'd like to do with this, like have the real Steve return home, and move in with Danny and Grace, but I am not sure if that will happen. If it does, this will change from a one-shot into a chapter story. I'm not sure where the muse will take me next, though, so I cannot make any promises. Let me know if you like this. There are run on sentences, fragments, and words that simply do not exist as I have written them (all done purposefully). Please forgive me my errors, and enjoy. Mahalo. :-)

 **Warnings:** There is some angst in this, and sappiness, too.

* * *

"What do you think you are, a seal!?" Danny was flabbergasted as he viewed the contents of his closet, strewn around his bedroom; the culprit was lying flat on his belly on the floor, doing his best to blend in with his surroundings as he attempted to hide under Danny's bed.

Danny sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes, and counted to ten, then back down to one, and then back up to ten again. When he opened his eyes, the only thing he could see of Steve was a foot.

Adopting Steve meant there were too many puppy dog eyes in the house between Steve and Grace, and both of them were willing to gang up on Danny to get what they wanted, but it also gave him his Grace back, and Danny figured it was worth the dent in his pride, and wallet. Of course, it also led to more mischief, and mayhem, and at least doubled the messes that he had to clean up around the house.

Danny should have put his foot down the first time that Steve came home with a tag along, but at the time he didn't realize that it was going to become a habit of Steve's. He'd let it slide, and now, two months, and several tag-a-longs (apparently of the same family) later, and Danny's wishing that he would have had the foresight to tell Steve, 'No.' the first go-round.

Now he was stuck with an entire family, or whatever the heck a grouping of ducklings is called, that apparently consider Steve their 'papa' or 'mama'. Grace, helpfully, informed him that it's called, imprinting.

At first it was cute, maybe even a little endearing, to watch the ducklings waddle along after Steve everywhere that he went, but now that the ducklings are more duck than lings, and definitely a lot more vocal, Danny's less inclined to find it 'cute', no matter what his daughter says to the contrary.

No amount of Grace oohing and awing over the odd little family unit that has taken up residence in his home made any of it more bearable. First, there was the poop (and Danny knew it was called something else like guano, or guana or something gua...but hell if he knew or cared to know, because bird shit was...well, bird shit, no matter what you called it), and second, there is the smell, which wasn't entirely caused by the poop, and third, there was the fact that Steve insisted on bringing the horde, or whatever the heck a grouping of six (six) ducklings - more like greedy, squawking teenagers now - into the house, and into Danny's room.

The dog had a big heart, though, and it was clear to Danny that, wise or not, Steve cared about the ducklings he'd adopted. He cared about Grace, too, and had, in a way, adopted both Grace and Danny.

Danny had drawn the line at allowing the waterfowl into his bed, though and had thankfully won that battle. It was tough, because he'd been double-whammied with the puppy dog eyes - Grace's and Steve's, a typically unbeatable combination - but he'd held onto his resolve...once the ducklings had become less fluff and more feather - he was not a monster after all - and a few weeks after the ducks had started calling Danny's place home, they were now out of his bed.

"Aw, Steve, c'mon." Danny shook his head and wagged his finger at the miscreant who had come out from underneath the bed when Danny had whistled for him.

Steve lowered his head, his eyes growing bigger, a distinct frown marring his normally cheerful features as he backed away from Danny, the six ducks beneath his feet moving with him.

"Danno." Grace frowned at her father, and sighed. "He was just trying to help."

Danny gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to pull out his hair. Steve's idea of 'helping' him would make him late for work for the second time that month if Danny took the time to clean his room before heading out, and Danny really didn't need the police chief on his case. He still had to secure the ducks, and Steve, make sure that Steve was fed and that he had something to occupy his time with, other than chewing on Danny's slippers and ties, and get Grace off to school.

Danny closed his eyes and silently counted to five, that was all that he had time for at the moment, and when he opened his eyes, he found Steve and Grace staring at him. Sighing and shaking his head, Danny knelt on the floor and held his arms out. It didn't take long before his arms were filled with Grace and Steve, and one of the ducks that had apparently gotten trapped between the three of them. Danny didn't mind though. It's what his life had become since his wife had died, and he'd moved halfway across the world with his daughter to give her, and himself, a chance at a fresh start.

That the home that he'd purchased on the ocean came with its very own guard dog - a bull mastiff named Steve, after the Navy SEAL who had disappeared on a mission; presumed dead, Steven J. McGarrett was apparently a lot like his namesake (loyal, and caring, if a bit gruff; at least that's what Danny had learned about the man in his brief investigation into his disappearance, brief, only because everything was classified) - was a bonus. Grace loved the dog, and Steve, with his big doggy heart, had brought her out of the depression that she'd been in since her mother had died.

John McGarrett had sold Danny the place at a very discounted price, claiming that the memories were overwhelming, and that he just couldn't live there anymore. Danny could understand that, his home had felt empty and yet haunted after Rachel's death. He knew that, where he and Grace found comfort, John would only find pain and loss.

The dog had apparently been named by John's daughter, Mary, who'd moved out, months ago, leaving the dog with her father, because she'd been unable to take Steve with her. John couldn't take Steve either, and if Danny hadn't taken Steve, the dog would have ended up going to the Humane Society. It was a good organization, but, one look into those dark, brown eyes, rimmed with green, and Danny couldn't do it. He'd crumbled, caved, the whole nine yards.

Grace's tear-filled eyes also sold him on the idea of keeping Steve, as had her trembling, "Please," the first thing that she'd asked for since her mother's death.

Danny couldn't deny Grace her simple request, not that he spoiled her, or anything. There were things that he said, no, to - chocolate sundaes for breakfast (except for a Sunday or two a month), surfing lessons, boys... for example.

Seven months later, and Danny really had very few regrets, squawking ducks, and a messy bedroom aside. The bull mastiff had a big heart, and Danny believed that it was the dog, more than their change of address (move which had come recommended by Grace's child psychologist), which had brought Grace's smile and laughter back, and which had helped him move on from Rachel's death.

"I love you," Danny said, ruffling both Grace's and Steve's hair. "You two goofs."

Grace giggled and wriggled out of his arms; Steve rested his head on Danny's shoulder and sighed deeply, encouraging Danny to pet him a little longer. The dog's groan and the trapped duck's squawk, made Danny laugh, and he pulled away, reluctant to go to work.

"Alright, if everyone is done chewing on my best work tie, and slobbering all over my shoe, I can finish getting ready for work." Danny held his hand out for the tie, and, head bowed, Steve brought it over to him.

Danny scowled at the slobber-encrusted tie, and flung it onto the pile of laundry that he had in the corner of his room. Shaking his head, he got to his feet and rummaged around for a new tie, wondering what Steve had against him wearing ties to work. It was a battle for him to get out of the door, with a suitable tie, almost every single morning.

The dog seemed intent upon ruining every single tie that he had, except for the special tie that Grace had gifted him for Christmas two years ago. It was almost like the dog had a tie-vendetta, or maybe he, too, agreed with Danny's co-workers that ties and Hawaii didn't mix. As it was, he only had half a dozen left, and if Steve had his way, Danny would only have the one tie from Grace, and he could not wear that to work every single day.

"Can't we play hooky, Danno?" Grace asked.

Full puppy dog eyes were being employed by his little girl, but as much as he wanted to say, yes, he couldn't. He and his partner, Meka, were working on a rather big case involving blackmail, murder, and stolen, misappropriated pineapples (of all things).

Danny doesn't know if the pineapples can be recovered or not (they've been in the wind for a couple of weeks now), and, quite frankly, he doesn't care, but he does want to arrest the person, or people, behind the blackmail and murder of the elderly Kimo Akamai. Whoever it is also stole a truck full of pineapples bound for the market.

It's an unusual case, and definitely not something that Danny would have been faced with while on the force on the mainland, but it's work, and a case for Danny to solve, and there's nothing he likes better (Grace aside) than solving the unsolvable. Danny's always loved a good mystery, and, pineapples aside, this is a good mystery for him to sink his teeth into.

"Sorry, monkey, I can't," Danny said.

Grace pouted, but he picked her up and swung her around, eliciting giggles from his little girl, and happy barks from Steve. The tiny, not yet ducks waddled around Danny's feet squawking.

"Tell you what," Danny said as he sat his little girl on her feet and knelt so that they were eye-level. He tapped the tip of her nose, making her smile. "How about if you and I go out for pizza after I pick you up from Aunty Lehua's?"

Aunty Lehua ran a before and after school care program from her home. She lived only a few houses down from Danny, and was very good with children. She also didn't charge an arm and a leg like some of the other programs did.

Grace bounced in place. "And ice cream?"

"And ice cream," Danny said, sealing the deal with a fist bump, and tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

Grace smiled at him and gave him a kiss on the cheek and a hug. Steve nosed his way in between them, wagging his tail and bathing their faces with his tongue. It made Grace giggle, and it made Danny want to wash his face and brush his teeth again. He didn't have time for either, though.

"Alright, it's off to work for me, off to school for you, and into the kitchen for Steve and his horde," Danny said, ignoring the way that Steve's tail drooped, and his head dipped. "Remember, Aunty Lehua will be picking you up from school today, and-"

"I know, Danno," Grace said, cutting him off with a sigh and an eye roll. She was far too young for eye rolls, Danny thought. "I won't get into any trouble, and I won't get into a stranger's car, even if they say that they've got puppies or kitties in the backseat, and I won't go home with anyone besides Aunty."

Danny hugged Grace tight, and then stood, holding his hand out for her, and motioning for Steve to head into the kitchen. The dog was a quick learner, Danny only had to point in the direction of the kitchen for him to head there, and it was good that his feathery entourage seemed content to waddle after him, like they lacked a mind of their own. Maybe there really was something to the phrase, birdbrain.

Once Steve and his flock were within the confines of the kitchen, and he'd made sure that they had food, water, a few toys, a large dog bone, and the extra large dog bed that Steve and the ducklings liked to use at any time that wasn't bedtime, Danny put up the child safety gate he had purchased soon after moving into the house.

He didn't believe in using kennels or cages for dogs, or keeping them on a tether in the backyard, but, after Steve had gnawed his way through Danny's last pair of loafers, Danny had realized that he couldn't let the dog have free rein of the house, and then Steve had found the strays and Danny'd learned that they could not be left on their own for any amount of time. The kitchen worked best, and once Steve had been walked in the morning, he seemed to be okay for the rest of the day. At least there hadn't been any accidents yet. Danny and Grace took him on a walk when they got home. In many ways, Steve was an ideal pet.

Taking one last look around his home, Danny set the alarm, and ushered Grace out the front door. It was going to be a long day, but Danny had a pizza and ice cream date with his daughter to look forward to, and, when they got home, Steve (and his ducklets) would be waiting for them.

It wasn't the life that Danny had envisioned when he was younger, and it certainly wasn't what he'd dreamed of having when he married Rachel, and they'd had Grace. It wasn't perfect, there were days when he missed Rachel so much that his chest ached, and it was hard to breathe, but Danny had Grace to look after, and now Steve, and his little underlings, so he had to keep breathing, had to move on.

The more he kept breathing, and moved on, the easier it got, and Danny found that, while not ideal, and not the life that he'd dreamed of having when he was a kid (becoming a Nascar driver, or a pro ball player just hadn't been in the cards for him) it was, in its own way, a good, happy life. And it was fast becoming a life that he could be proud of when he got older. He could see himself sitting down on the lanai, surrounded by Grace's children, regaling them with tales of the grandmother that they'd never meet, and Steve, the dog with a big heart, and a strong duck following.

A dog who had won over both Grace's and Danny's hearts, and, in his own way, was now as much a part of their family as the human people in it.


	2. Lineups and Ruined Ties

**Disclaimer:** See initial chapter.

 **A/N:** Another ridiculous addition to this story. I do have some ideas for how the human Steve will come into the mix, and another idea just popped into my head as I typed this author's note. I guess I'll have to see which idea wins out. This is sappy...sorry.

* * *

"Six ducks, one mongoose with a gimpy leg, one gosling, and one Steve," Danny listed off the animals that stood - almost at attention, thanks to Steve's herding - before him.

The ducks all had names (carefully, and painstakingly, doled out by Grace): Matty, Nina, Molly, Pepper, Rocky and Hermione (Hermy for short). None of them came when called by name, but they did respond, and quite well, to Steve's various barks. The dog seemed to have a different bark for every occasion. Danny had no idea how the dog did what he did, almost like a drill sergeant, but he wasn't about to question it too deeply; he didn't want to ruin a good thing. Even Grace seemed to respond to certain barks of Steve's, which, again, Danny didn't want to think too much about, because that would mean he'd need to take a closer look at himself, and no way was he going to admit to obeying a dog's bark.

The gosling was called, Herman, but seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that he had a name, and was a constant Steve shadow.

It was amazing how Steve could get the animals that he'd adopted in line, at least that's what Kono Kalakaua, the new rookie at work, had said when she'd seen what Steve could do with the veritable animal menagerie that Danny now had. Kono and Danny's partner, Meka, were the only co-workers Danny'd felt comfortable inviting over in any capacity.

"Don't forget me, Danno," Grace said.

She stood at the other end of the line, chin held high, shoulders back, a glint of mischief in her eyes, which were so much like her mother's. Danny refused to let those thoughts sway him from his task at hand, though.

A crime had been committed, and while he would be willing to put money down on one suspect in particular, Danny needed to go through due process before he could rightfully accuse and punish the guilty party.

Danny strode over to his daughter and tapped her on the nose. "And one Grace."

"All present and accounted for, Danno," Grace said, crinkling her nose, and stifling a giggle when Danny tickled her chin.

Steve's gaze darted in Danny and Grace's direction, and he lowered his head just a little bit. His eyes gained that look that always seemed to tug at Danny's heart, no matter how much he tried to steel himself against it. It was a cross between Steve's puppy dog eyes, and his sad, woe is me, eyes. A nearly lethal combination when paired with Grace's patented pout.

The dog sighed, and sniffed, and lowered his head just a little more, and adopted what could only be interpreted as a hangdog look, ears and shoulders sagging as though he was about to drop to the floor with some heavy burden. It was pathetic, and melodramatic, and Danny had half a mind to call the dog out on it, but he didn't.

Instead, shaking his head, Danny walked over to the dog, and scratched behind his ears. "Good work, Steve," he praised, and was rewarded with a tongue bath, and a dog with a much improved demeanor, complete with perked up ears, a nose held high in the air, and a smug look on the dog's face.

Jealousy was starting to become a real problem in this household, and Danny was having a hard time figuring out how best to handle it. Grace and Steve were both vying for his attention from the moment he woke up to the minute one of them went to bed, and now the newest of their crew, the mongoose with the gimpy leg, was after any and all affection that she could get from all of them. She wasn't overly picky, though she did seem inclined to seek out Danny's company above that of her stalwart savior, Steve, and his young, human sidekick, Grace.

It didn't help that the mongoose was pregnant, and far too tame for Danny to return to the wilds, such as they were, of Hawaii. She'd never make it on her own, and Danny couldn't, in good conscience, get rid of her, not unless he wanted to break Grace, and Steve's hearts, and come off as a cruel bastard with a heart of stone. Though he had no problem kicking her out of his bed on nights when she wasn't sneaky enough to remain undetected beneath his bed sheets and was caught trying to snuggle up beneath his chin, or by his side, or in places that Danny chose not to think about (in many ways, she was shameless, Danny was not).

The ducks, now nearly full grown, and gosling, another new addition to their odd family unit, likewise demanded Danny's attention on a daily basis. They waddled their way between, and around his feet, whenever mealtime came around, and were a general nuisance whenever Danny was preparing any meal.

The pen that he'd erected, with Meka's help, outside for the lot of them was rarely used when Danny was home, making his waking hours a sort of bedlam, unless he could get Steve to work his magic, and get his adopted 'children' under some semblance of control, like they were now, lined up in front of the door to the lanai.

This was not, however, a happy circumstance. At least not for Danny. A crime had been committed, and he was going to determine which of those lined up before him had committed the crime, and then dole out a punishment for the crime.

Danny held up the reason for the lineup in his left hand, and walked the line, dangling the ruined tie (his last one) in front of each animal's face. The gosling hid beneath Steve's haunches, nestling its beak amidst the coarse fur, and three of the ducklings took a little nip at it. Grace giggled from her end of the line, and Steve started licking his paws, as though completely bored with the whole process, every now and again casting semi-worried looks in Steve's direction.

Mother Mongoose, as Danny had taken to calling her, twitched her nose at the tie when he dangled it in front of her. She made a chattering noise, and, much to his dismay, launched herself at the already damaged tie, attacking it as though it was some kind of mortal enemy, nearly biting him in the process to get to and 'kill' the offending tie. He released the tie, just in the nick of time, and blinked down at the warring mongoose, only belatedly realizing that his tie might have borne just the slightest resemblance to a hooded cobra.

"Huh, I guess that your survival instincts have remained intact even after generations of living in the snake-less Hawaii." Danny frowned at the 'dead' tie and the proud Mother Mongoose, who had ripped it to shreds, and was now grooming herself contentedly.

"What's that mean, Danno?" Grace asked past her poorly stifled giggles.

Danny scooped his daughter off the floor, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him. "I'm afraid, monkey, that it means the end of Danno's ties. I will say this about them, monkey, at least they didn't go down without a fight."

Grace's giggles made it impossible for Danny to understand what she said in response to that, but it didn't matter. The real culprit who had ruined the tie to begin with, stood five feet away from Danny, deep brown eyes looking everywhere but at him, the pretense of nonchalance and boredom completely gone now that Mother Mongoose had ruined Danny's tie beyond repair.

Steve.

For a dog, Steve had a remarkable number of faces that almost seemed to speak, and right now, Steve's face betrayed his guilt loud and clear, as though it had been written across his brown and black muzzle in blue ink - I did it; I killed your last tie. Sorry. Forgive me, Danno.

Danny had known all along that the tie had been initially torn by Steve, who hated his ties. The animal lineup was a mere formality that provided entertainment for his daughter, and, for some crazy reason, peace of mind for him. Even at home and in play, Danny was, first and foremost, a detective. Just because he locked up his sidearm, and put away his badge when he came home, did not mean that he stopped being a detective as soon as he walked through the front door.

Grace's laughter was contagious, and soon, Danny was laughing with her, and Steve, while he was still apologizing with his big, brown eyes, was breaking ranks, and joining Danny and Grace, begging to be included in their father-daughter circle. Realizing that he'd been beat, Danny sank to his knees, and pulled the dog into the small family circle, offering forgiveness instead of punishment.

Danny's heart still skipped a beat whenever Grace laughed, because for a long while he had worried that he was never going to hear the sound of her laughter again. It had been Steve, and his ridiculous antics, which had first caused laughter to bubble up in his daughter shortly after they'd moved into John McGarrett's house, long months following Rachel's death.

Steve, as it turned out, was very attuned to the emotions of those around him, something for which Danny was immensely grateful. Steve was there for Grace whenever she cried and Danny wasn't immediately available for whatever reason, offering her a shoulder, and a furry neck to wrap her arms around, and bury her face against. He was there for Danny, too, ignoring Danny's no pets on the bed rule to curl around him on nights when the memories and loss became too much for Danny to handle, and he lost control of his emotions.

Nonjudgmental, except for where Danny's attire was concerned (namely ties, and loafers), Steve was, in many ways, a good friend, which Danny was in serious need of on the island.

When Danny had first moved, he'd thought of nothing other than his baby girl, and her need for a change of environment. He hadn't thought, or cared about himself or his needs, but now that Grace was starting to get better, Danny was aware that he, too, had needs, and friendship was one of them.

He had his partner Meka, and the new rookie, Kono, was friendly toward him, but not many on the police force were very welcoming, and his mourning, and poor attitude as a result of that, hadn't helped matters. Not only had Danny mourned Rachel, but he'd also mourned the loss of his home, which meant that he talked about it, a lot. Too much. And as such, he'd been marked as an outsider - a haole - and a complainer with few redeeming qualities.

He was a damn good detective, and couldn't be faulted for that, but in Hawaii, it didn't seem to matter how many cases he had solved, or how he'd done things back home. Relationships, tradition, and the concept of aloha, something that seemed elusive to Danny, were what mattered, and he had no idea how to acquire them.

Coming home to Steve, and Grace, and the rest of the hodgepodge family that Steve had collected over the past several months, had quickly become all that Danny lived for. He doubted it was healthy to spend late, sleepless hours, pouring out his worries, and heart to a dog that had come with the house that he'd purchased, but Steve was all that Danny had right now, and the dog, for all that he was a dog, listened, and seemed to understand.

Mother Mongoose jumped up onto Steve's back, and scurried up to perch on top of Danny's head. The ducks formed a loose circle around Danny, Grace, Steve, the gosling, who'd stuck close to Steve, and Mother Mongoose.

If Danny'd known what kind of spectacle they made - how, Kono, if she'd witnessed it would have snapped off a number of pictures for future blackmail opportunities, and to simply stare at on nights when she needed something heartwarming and uplifting to look at - he might have disbanded the group, but, as it was, he was only aware of a great sense of belonging, and love, of having his daughter back from the heavy loss of death, and of finding something that he'd thought he'd lost forever when Rachel died: family.

"I love you, Danno," Grace said, kissing him on the cheek. "And, Steve," she said, kissing the dog on the head.

Mother Mongoose chirred a string of vowel sounds that demanded some kind of acknowledgment which Danny was quick to give her with a quick rub on the back, and Grace by giggling and patting her on the head. "Love you, too, Mother Mongoose."

"Yes, let's not forget Mother Mongoose, or the six little ducks, or the shy little gosling," Danny teased, heart filling with love for each of the members of his odd little family. A family that Steve, with his infernal need to adopt everything, had gifted him with.


	3. Papa Goose

**Disclaimer:** See initial chapter.

 **A/N:** I started this before the new school year started, and finished it tonight, the weekend after my break started. It is, more than likely, completely ridiculous. I know that, in all likelihood, Danny would not be allowed to keep a Hawaiian Monk Seal and care for it, but, because this is fiction, and the reality is that there _is_ a need for more volunteers, I am going to write it as though Danny's fostering the monk seal. I got information from websites for the Marine Mammal Center, NOAA, Kauai Monk Seal, and Monachus Guardian. I apologize for summarizing portions of this, but I hope that the bits I chose to summarize, rather than drag out in uber detail are alright, and the portions that I chose to focus more detail on make sense.

I've changed the events of Danny's knee injury.

Reminder, this is AU.

* * *

"No, absolutely not," Danny said, actually putting his foot down, and pointing toward the ocean, where the animal in question should be rather than perched out in the salt water kiddie pool that Danny and Grace had set up for the waterfowl members of the family.

Steve sighed, heavily and made that little whining noise that made Mother Goose, her three offspring in tow, come to his side immediately, no matter where she was, or what she was doing at the time. Danny knew that he'd be in for an earful of squawking chitters that would make the hair on the back of his arms stand up, but this time Steve had crossed a line, and Danny couldn't let him keep his newest baby animal, no matter how cute it was, or how pathetically lonely it looked sitting in the kiddie pool.

"Steve." Danny knelt on the ground, ignoring the way that his knee twinged painfully with the movement, and pressed his forehead against the dog's, so he could look the dog in the eye. "We can't keep him, or her. It's against the law. We'll have all sorts of animal rights groups that support the ESA (Endangered Species Act) and the MMPA (Marine Mammal Protection Act) on our backs, and I don't think I can afford the fines."

Steve sighed again, and his eyes moved toward the Hawaiian monk seal pup in question. It was sitting in the salt water pool, oblivious to the conversation that was taking place beside it. How Steve had managed to get the pup into the pool was a mystery to Danny, but Danny had learned not to question how Steve did what he did. There was no point, because the dog was not giving up his secrets anytime soon, and Danny was no Doctor Doolittle.

"Why can't you bring normal pets home for a change? Like kittens, and...what am I saying?" Danny asked, instantly regretting his words, because they did not need anymore pets, kittens or otherwise.

The animals already outnumbered the humans in Danny's home, and there was a very real danger that the house was going to be overrun by them, especially if Steve kept up with the heartfelt adoptions. There were days when Danny seriously thought about quitting the police force and opening a petting zoo in his home. He'd probably make a killing if he did. All that he'd need was for Steve to adopt a couple of goats, maybe some kittens, and a pig or two, and he'd be all set.

"C'mon, let's go find its mama, and return it back to the wild, where it belongs," Danny said, wincing as his knee popped when he stood. His back cracked when he stretched, and Danny tried not to stumble as he took a step toward the beach. It had been a long day.

Steve was right there beside him, helping to keep Danny upright as his knee threatened to give out. He should have never taken all of those stairs today. The elevator trip would've been short, and painless. Meka and Kono had made it up without harm even though the elevator had looked old and rickety, and like it could break down if someone breathed on it.

The stairs hadn't been much better, but Danny had not wanted to risk being trapped inside of the small space of the elevator in case it broke down. He didn't need anyone at HPD to have any more ammunition against him, and if it became common knowledge that Danny was claustrophobic...he'd never hear the end of it. Not that Meka or Kono would say anything, but it was better safe than sorry.

Now his knee was not so kindly reminding him that elevators were a very handy invention, and that they rarely broke down. His old sports injury could not have worse timing for cropping up again. He couldn't really afford to take time off with the murder case that he, Meka, and their rookie, Kono, were working on.

The short walk down to the beach took far longer than it should have, and Danny was thankful that Steve was as big as he was, and that he could rest his hand against the dog's head for leverage. He'd have to rest, and ice, his knee later.

The short trek along the beach revealed the grisly reason why Steve had brought the pup home with him, the how irrelevant in the gruesome picture of the pup's mother's tragic death. Danny was grateful that Grace was working on a school project at a friend's house. She didn't need to see something like this.

Steve paced uneasily between Danny and the dead monk seal, clearly distressed over her death. If Danny had to make a guess at how she'd died, he'd wager that she'd come into lethal contact with the propeller of a large boat. The fact that her pup had survived, and that Steve had somehow managed to rescue it, was fortuitous, and nothing short of a miracle of sorts. Of course, it also meant that Steve had 'escaped' the house, yet again, and, because the door leading out the lanai hadn't been opened, that meant Steve had used one of the windows. Danny would have to replace the window screen. Again.

Windows, and doors, meant nothing to the bull mastiff. When he wanted out, he got out. Danny was thankful that his neighbors didn't seem to mind the large dog roaming the neighborhood on the days that Steve saw fit to leave the house while Danny and Grace were out. As a matter of fact, many of Danny's elderly neighbors even gave Steve snacks during his afternoon escapades.

Danny even had it on good authority that the dog had frightened away would-be robbers on at least one occasion, maybe more. Mr. and Mrs. Akau were still bringing over humongous rawhide bones to Steve as thanks for scaring off the thieves, who had been caught by the police several days later.

The duo had been preying on neighborhoods with high populations of elderly homeowners, and had been getting away with their robberies in other neighborhoods until Steve stopped them. He'd managed to bite one of the young men, in the ass.

Danny had found a piece of the torn cloth in his backyard where Steve was planning on burying it. There had been blood on the cloth, and it had been traced to one of the robbers, who had then given up his accomplice. Danny hadn't even had to break much of a sweat during interrogation.

Danny could still remember Steve's first breakout like it had been yesterday, though it had happened a good five months ago, and it had become a regular, weekly occurrence since then. Sometimes Steve appeared to have an agenda, like today's rescue, but other times, he would just wander the neighborhood. Danny's neighbors told him that it seemed as though the big dog was in search of something, or someone.

That first time, though, had left Danny in a panic. He'd come home from a grueling day at work to find the kitchen a mess of feathers and loud squawking (the ducklings had missed their canine daddy), and the window, which was located above the sink, had been nosed open, the screen, and Steve, were both missing.

It didn't take a genius, or heavy detective work, for Danny to figure out what had happened. There were large paw prints on the kitchen sink, and the missing screen was lying in a nearby hibiscus bush, completely ruined.

Danny's panic at not immediately finding Steve, after having discovered the bit of bloodied cloth lying on his lanai, was thankfully short lived as the Akaus brought the dog over immediately.

Steve, knowing that he'd be in trouble for breaking out of the house, had approached Danny with head down, and tail tucked between his legs, body waggling like his tail would be if it was free to do so, and if he wasn't in fear of being scolded for what he'd done.

The Akaus had beat Danny to the punch though, praising Steve up and down for what he'd done, and how he'd come to their rescue when those boys had tried to break into their home. The robbery, as was often the case when the people were home, could very well have ended in homicide.

Danny had forgiven Steve for his transgression, and had dutifully replaced the screen on the kitchen window, and explained, in more detail than he should have, given that Steve was a dog, why doors, and not windows, were used as exits. The next time that Steve had left the house while Danny and Grace were gone, Steve had somehow worked the door leading out to the lanai open, proving that he was, indeed, smarter than the average dog, and more of a headache because of that.

"Poor girl." Danny laid a hand on the dead monk seal, and Steve nosed at Danny's hand until Danny transferred his attention from the dead seal to him. Steve looked at Danny and woofed, and then he looked down at the dead seal, and woofed again, clearly communicating to Danny that he needed to fix this.

"I'm sorry, buddy, there's nothing I can do for her," Danny said, scratching behind Steve's ears. "She's dead."

Steve whined, and nosed at the seal, as though trying to prod her awake. He pawed at her as well, only giving up when Danny pulled Steve toward him and hugged him around the neck.

His knee throbbed, and Danny knew that he'd have to go to the doctor about it, take time off of work, though he really didn't want to. As painful, and damaging, as it was to kneel in the wet sand beside Steve and the dead seal, Danny wasn't about to move just yet, not when Steve needed him.

"I know, buddy," Danny said. "I'm sure you did everything you could for her, but you can't save everyone."

There was no doubt in Danny's mind that Steve had found the seal either shortly before, or just after, she'd died, and that the dog had probably spent a good amount of time with her, trying to help her in his own doggy way. It broke his heart thinking about Steve attempting, in vain, to stop death from taking the seal, or sitting with the dead seal, attempting to wake her, or bring her back to life, which, after he'd gotten her pup to safety, he might have been doing right up until Danny got home.

"You did good, Steve," Danny praised, rubbing the dog's neck just beneath his collar, and smiling when Steve groaned in pleasure. "You saved her pup, and I know that you probably can't understand a single word that I'm saying right now, but I'm proud of you, buddy."

Steve licked Danny's cheek, and ignoring Danny's, "Eww, stop that," started licking the rest of Danny's face, body and tail waggling in spite of the somberness of the situation. Steve had had all day to come to grips with the seal's death, but had only accepted that she was beyond help after Danny had declared it to be so.

"You're such an animal," Danny chided, and shook his head. Steve sat back on his haunches, tongue lolling, and regarded Danny with a look that was way too serious for a dog.

"He _is_ an animal," a voice came from out of nowhere and startled Danny.

Steve, instantly on alert, hackles raised, growled low in his throat, and turned to face the possible threat. Danny's fingers tightened in the dog's fur, and he reached for his service weapon, fingers catching on his waistband as he remembered that he was off-duty and it wasn't there.

The man stepped out of the hibiscus bushes that lined Mrs. Carey's backyard, but stopped a few feet away from Danny and Steve, hands held out in front of him when he heard Steve growl. He didn't look like a threat, but Danny knew that looks could be deceiving.

The man was tall, and gaunt, his cheeks hollow and covered in three day's worth (at least) of beard. Danny was willing to bet that if he hadn't been kneeling next to a dead monk seal, he'd have smelled the man, even from a few feet away.

His clothes were dirty and torn, he had no shoes, or slippers, and he was much too pale. His eyes, the deepest blue that Danny had ever seen, were sharp and focused, and Danny read a guarded intelligence in them.

While the man was doing his best to put Danny, and Steve, at ease, Danny got the feeling that, if he wanted to, the man could snap his neck without breaking a sweat. He had ex-military written all over him. Maybe even special forces.

"You know he's a dog, right?" the man said, a touch of humor in his voice as he nodded toward Steve who had stopped growling, but was still on high alert, body poised to attack should he need to protect Danny.

Danny bristled at the tone of the man's voice, but took a deep breath through his mouth, because the dead seal really stunk, and said, "Do I know he's a dog?" Danny looked from Steve to the man and back again, mouth quirking upward in a soft smile.

"Of course I know he's a dog, but Steve understands what I'm saying, don't you, Steve?" Danny maintained eye contact with the dog, and, though he noticed that the man flinched, and stiffened, Danny did his best to ignore the reactions. It was clear that the man was skittish, and Danny didn't want to set the man on edge, or make him uncomfortable.

Steve let out a soft woof and licked Danny on the nose. "Nice, Steve, real nice."

"What kind of name is Steve?" the man asked.

Danny glanced at the man. He was crouched in the sand now, elbows resting on his knees. His blue eyes were filled with mild curiosity, and wariness. There were dark circles under his eyes, and the t shirt that he wore was loose on him, his cargo pants were loose, too, held on his thin frame by a thick rope.

"Anglo Saxon? Latin? Greek?" Danny shrugged. He scratched Steve behind the ears, and smiled when the dog sighed happily. "I haven't really given his name much thought," Danny said, purposefully misunderstanding the man's question. "A rose by any other name, and all that, you know?"

The man laughed. A rough, grating sound. He ran a hand through his oily hair, and Danny tried not to be distracted by the flakes of dirt and unidentifiable bits and pieces that fell out of the man's unkempt hair, which, when he'd finished running his hands through it, flopped over his forehead and into his left eye. The man blew at the hair in his eye, but it remained uncooperative. Danny got the impression that the man was not used to having his hair that long.

"That's not what I meant," he said, a little impatient. "Why'd you name the dog Steve? That's not a typical name for a dog."

"I didn't name him," Danny said. "If I had, I'd have called him Nana, you know, after that dog in Peter Pan, from the original animated version, or Dolittle, you know, after the doctor, again, from the original, 1967 film."

"Nana? Dolittle?" the man's face took on an almost constipated look, and he regarded Danny as though he thought Danny was a few cards short of a full deck. Danny would have laughed if he thought it wouldn't offend the stranger.

"Steve, here, seems to think that it's his duty to care for every lost and stranded, parent-less animal on the island of Oahu. And now, he's brought home a baby monk seal," Danny said, eyes on the dog, rather than the man.

"Pup," the man corrected.

Danny turned to look at him. The man's blue eyes were filled with humor. It was nice.

Now that he was taking a closer look at the man, Danny could just make out a thin, silvery scar running from the man's temple toward the underside of his right eye. Danny suppressed a shiver of sympathy. An inch in one direction would have meant to loss of an eye, in the other, a loss of life if Danny wasn't mistaken.

"It's called a pup, not a baby seal." The man gave him, and Steve, a lopsided smile.

Danny resisted the urge, just barely, to roll his eyes, and took a deep breath before nodding and giving the man a tight smile.

"Point is, we can't keep it, him, her..." Danny waved his hand in the air to indicate his uncertainty of the _pup's_ gender, "because monk seals are on the endangered species list, and I can't afford the hefty fine that I'm sure goes along with pup-napping."

"I doubt they'll fine you. You, or rather your dog, Steve..." the man's lips twisted in a manner that seemed self-deprecating, "saved the pup's life," the man said. "You'll both be heroes."

Danny shook his head. He was no hero. He was a father, a detective, the head of a family comprised of various animals that would be better suited to life on a farm. He was a man grieving.

Steve, though, _was_ a hero. It was crystal clear to Danny. The dog had pulled Grace out of a depression that Danny had feared would never end. He'd rescued, much to Danny's chagrin, animals who, had he not come along when he had, would undoubtedly be dead. And he'd saved Danny, too, from spending the rest of his life wallowing in the cavernous hole that Rachel's death had carved into his heart.

Danny ran in his hand through Steve's fur, and wondered when this had become his life - sitting on a beach with a dog, talking to a stranger next to a dead seal, while a live one waited in a kiddie pool he'd set up for a crew of ducklings.

It was bizarre, and much stranger than fiction. The fiction of his life.

Danny cleared his throat, and turned to regard the stranger. The man's head was tilted, and his lips were quirked upward in a half-smile, as though he was party to something much bigger, and better than this moment in the sand.

"I'm no hero," Danny said. "Steve, on the other hand..." Danny paused and hugged the dog, and endured a tongue bath with minimal sputtering. "Steve's the real deal."

The stranger smiled, and nodded, and then stood, dusting the sand off of himself. For a second, Danny thought the man would offer him a hand to shake, but he didn't. Instead, he gestured toward Steve, and toward the dead seal.

"Take care of him," the stranger said. "I'm sure that everything will be fine with the pup."

And, with a small wave, the man was gone, down the beach, quicker than Danny could follow if he wanted to, and Steve was whining, and pawing at him, and licking his face to get him up out of the sand and heading toward home.

A quick call to NOAA's (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) hotline, and Danny was the proud, temporary guardian of a baby monk seal (pup) for the next foreseeable future. They were short on volunteers, and, according to the expert he'd spoken to on the phone, moving the pup would be far more traumatic than keeping it where it was until it could go out into the open water on its own.

Danny was given directions for caring for the pup, and further instructions for care and feeding were sent to him via email. A representative would be sent to check on the seal's condition and bring Danny the supplies he would need to care for the orphaned seal within the next hour.

By the end of the conversation, Danny felt dizzy, and as though he'd taken on a little more than he could handle, but with his knee acting up, he could, and probably should, take sick leave, and, well, this would give him something to do, and Grace, when she came home, would be thrilled.

Danny took a deep breath, and dipped his hand into the water. It was warm, but not too warm, which is what the NOAA representative he'd spoken to on the phone had said was important. The pup's eyes were still baby blue, and Danny would wager that they'd only recently opened, meaning the pup would definitely need to be bottle fed for awhile.

Steve was standing guard next to Danny and the pup, one of the ducks had sidled up next to him, and the baby mongoose (Danny wondered if the stranger would have known what the proper name for a baby mongoose was) had clambered its way up to rest on Steve's back.

Danny shook his head, and pulled the dog into a one armed hug. "I guess it's a good thing I'm able to take some time off, huh, buddy?" Danny said into the cooling night.

Steve gave a gentle woof of agreement, and then licked Danny's cheek. Danny absentmindedly wiped off the slobber, he was already mentally ordering pizza for dinner, and preparing a speech for Grace, and Steve, about how the pup was only going to be a temporary member of their family.

"Danno!" Grace's voice reached him well before the little girl rounded the corner of the house, and launched herself at her father, and their faithful dog. Danny smiled when, after she'd told him all about her day, and about the project she'd been working on before she came home in a single breath, Grace stuttered to a halt, her eyes growing wide as she took in the baby seal sitting in the ducks' kiddie pool.

Danny's well prepared speech was lost by the time that his daughter had finished squealing in delight. The NOAA representative took that time to arrive, and he showed Grace, and Danny, how to care for the pup, and seemed amused by the plethora of animals that they had adopted, though Danny tried to explain that, really, none of it was his fault, and he hadn't planned any of it, but that it was really Steve who had done all of it.

The man shook his head, and placed a hand on Danny's arm, and gave him a look that told Danny he believed that Danny, and not Steve, was the pushover with a heart of gold.

Danny showed the man to the dead monk seal, and ordered pizza, and by the time that bedtime rolled around, he was mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted, but he dutifully set his alarm clock for an obscenely early hour of the morning, because he had to feed, Moana (named after a seafaring heroine in an upcoming Disney movie that Grace was eager to watch) every four hours.

The pup was about two to three weeks old, and while it was a major risk to have Danny bottle feed her until she could be weaned over the next three to four weeks, the center's resources were tapped, and there was no other option at the moment.

Danny could only hope that the seal did not bond with him, though with his terrible luck with the animals that Steve had brought home, that was highly unlikely. He was already feeling something for the helpless pup with the big blue eyes, and pitiful, mewling cry.

Danny got the routine of caring for Moana down over the next few days. He'd called in sick at work, went to the doctor to get a note, and learned that he would need to rest his knee for the next couple of weeks, or risk having to go through surgery. It wasn't what he wanted to hear, but he wasn't surprised.

The next few days went by in a blur of exhaustion and a whirlwind of activity that kept Danny busy every waking hour. Representatives from the NOAA came and went, checking on Moana and Danny. They took photographs of the pup, of Danny, or Grace caring for the pup.

Danny was running on fumes half of the time, so it barely registered what was happening when the media came (he thought it was another rep from the NOAA) and interviewed him, and took photographs of Danny and his animal family.

The morning following the interview that Danny hadn't realized _was_ an interview, dawned bright, and much too early, especially since Danny had been out to his living room (he'd moved the pool indoors) to feed Moana twice throughout the course of the night.

Danny swatted his alarm clock, only to realize that what had wakened him had been his phone, and not the alarm that would alert him to feed Moana.

Danny groaned when he did look at his alarm. Moana wasn't due another feeding for another hour and a half, and then he'd be up for the day getting Grace off to school. He could nap during the day, but rarely did.

"Meka?" Danny said groggily, and then quickly sat up in bed, dispelling several squawking ducks, a scolding mother mongoose and her offspring, a huffing Steve, and a rather disgruntled gosling, when Meka launched into a congratulatory speech.

Apparently the stranger had been correct in his assumption that Danny and Steve would be heralded as heroes. Danny's 'heroic' rescue of the monk seal, as well as the animals that he had 'rescued' over the past several months was being featured on the front page of the newspaper.

"It's so cute," Kono's voice came over the line, and Danny knew that he was doomed.

None of the officers that he worked with would take him seriously now. Apparently he was being called Papa Goose in the papers, and, to make things worse, the story was trending.

Danny growled and hung up, he turned toward Steve, and lost all his anger. The dog was staring up at him with doe eyes, the mongoose offspring dangling from his chest hairs, and the gosling tucked safely underneath his bulk.

"Papa Goose," Danny huffed, and shook his head, and turning his ringer off, he went back to sleep, once all of the animals had resumed their positions on the bed, tucked safely around Danny, that is.


End file.
